


Twelfth Night:  First and Last

by Impracticaldemon



Category: Hakuouki
Genre: F/M, First Time, Historical References, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-08
Updated: 2017-03-08
Packaged: 2018-10-01 03:45:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10179968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Impracticaldemon/pseuds/Impracticaldemon
Summary: While the story Twelfth Night chronicled the times that Hijikata literally spent the night with Chizuru, a couple of readers noted that although the description of the twelfth night clearly implies that Hijikata and Chizuru spent the night together as lovers (in modern usage of the term), the moments directly relating to their first time together were omitted. This was done in order to (a) finish the story on time for a Christmas fanwork exchange, and (b) keep the story rated T.The story below is the "missing piece" of the longer story Twelfth Night. As with the original, it is written primarily from Hijikata's point of view.This story is dedicated to Alley-Cat-Sunflower ( shenanigumi on tumblr), as a belated birthday present: I told you that I would write this eventually!





	

**Author's Note:**

> This story can be read on its own, but is intended to be read after reading Twelfth Night.

**Twelfth Night: First and Last**

* * *

The conflict that would begin tomorrow promised death for all or most of them, but Hijikata's smile was sincere as he spoke words of praise to each of the men on alert that night at the giant star-shaped fortress Goryōkaku. Most of the ninety or so Shinsengumi still alive were stationed with Shimada Kai under the command of Otori Keisuke at Benten Fortress overlooking the water; Hijikata had spoken with them earlier in the day. Not that there had been much left to say, really. This would be the end of it—of the war and of the Shinsengumi. The men who had survived this far, and hadn't deserted, didn't need the former Demon Vice Commander to bully them into facing the enemy. On the other hand, they had appreciated the chance to speak with their Commander, Hijikata Toshizō.

Despite the importance of all of this, a part of Hijikata's mind dwelled on the image of a small, upright figure in a page's tunic and breeches, standing motionless in his office where he had left her before coming out on his rounds. Chizuru had promised to wait for him; more than that, she had promised to share his bed with him that night. They had known each other, spent countless hours together, for five and a half eventful, brilliant, tragic years. She had loved him throughout much, maybe even most of that time, but he had been careful not to return her love except by trying to keep her at arm's-length from him and the duty that had been his first—and he had assumed last—mistress.

It hadn't worked out the way he had planned, of course. Nothing had. He had wanted to give his mentor and commander Kondō Isami victories, and instead the Shinsengumi had witnessed—no, had been participants in—the fall of the Tokugawa and the rule of the shoguns. He had wanted to protect Chizuru, and had instead taken her blood as a way to satisfy the bloodlust that was the price to be paid for the strength and speed he'd gained upon becoming a _rasetsu_.

Despite all of his failings, despite knowing how she felt about him, despite the considerable intimacy that the bloodlust had forced upon them, he had never openly approached Chizuru as a lover until today, when she had rejected her last possible chance to escape from the slaughter of the coming days of battle. His love for Chizuru had remained carefully unspoken—even after he had finally acknowledged his need for her presence—until that final hope for her safety was gone. After that, he had finally bowed to her steadfast heart and unbreakable will and kissed her more passionately than he had ever kissed a woman—and there had been quite a few women over the years since he had attained what passed for adulthood. No woman but Chizuru had ever shared or claimed a part in his real life, however.

He didn't go to his office after completing his duties for the evening. For once, that wasn't where she would be. Instead, he went with increasing haste toward his private chambers—the outer sitting room that he had almost never used, and the adjoining bedroom that he probably hadn't used enough. It was as if some part of him had finally, fully realized that this could be both the first and last night that he would be able to spend with the woman he loved, so that every minute was precious.

He closed the outer door behind him quietly, unsurprised that Chizuru wasn't in the sparsely furnished room that he had frequented so seldom. No, she would be exactly where he had asked her to be—in his bed, waiting for him. The inner door was slightly ajar, and the yellowy light of a single lamp beckoned him forward.

"Chizuru."

He closed his bedroom door behind him and dragged his swords from his belt with far more haste than care, drinking in the sight of the girl—the young woman—who knelt patiently on top of the light blanket near the edge of the western-style bed. Her large, expressive eyes brightened when she saw him, and the uncertainty he had glimpsed on her face vanished instantly.

She was wearing only a plain, loosely belted yukata, most likely the garment in which she slept. Hijikata found his breathing suddenly unsteady, and his heartbeat increasing, as his eyes took in the soft, dark hair that spilled loose over her shoulders and down her back, gleaming like fine silk in the lamplight. Her face was grave and smiling at the same time, but he found it difficult to drag his eyes away from the slender column of her throat and the hollow at its base, and then the defined outlines of her collarbones below that and the slight swell of smooth skin even lower that hinted at small breasts left free of any binding. His mouth went dry at the way that she offered herself to him, making her intentions known in everything from her posture to her clothing to her hair.

He suspected that he had dreamed of this sight, or something like it. He knew that in more recent weeks he had occasionally given himself over to moments of wondering what it would be like to set aside the pose of commander and page for long enough to properly caress the skin under the page's starched white shirt and collar and carefully-buttoned red vest. Most arousing, always, were the memories of the way that she would loosen her kimono, or unbutton her shirt and vest, in order to lower her clothing around her shoulders when she gave him her blood. That innocent, supremely erotic gesture had been the most difficult of all things to resist, but also the most compelling reason to refuse to bring her to Ezo in the first place.

"Hijikata-san?"

He answered the question in her voice by lifting her to her feet on the bed and pulling her body tightly against his, before pushing the cotton yukata off her shoulders and burying his head against her neck. His lips and teeth tasted her skin—both like and unlike the way he had taken her blood in the past—first gently and then with greater force, until he was leaving darkening bruises on her neck and along her left shoulder. Some part of him regretted that the marks wouldn't last very long; it was as if it made their time together even more insubstantial than it already was. He felt Chizuru tense at first, and then put her arms around his neck both to keep herself steady and to keep her body close to his. Her breath caught when his mouth touched and then tugged at her skin, and the sound heightened his arousal.

Since she had anchored herself to him, his hands were left free to slide along her back and hips and upper legs. Fortunately, some vestige of sanity returned at that point, as if he had finally had enough contact with her to assuage his immediate need to ensure that she was really there and not some figment of his desperate imagination.

"Chizuru, please look at me." His voice was hoarse, and he cleared his throat.

Reluctantly, she created enough space between them that they could look into each other's eyes. Then she brought one of her small hands up to his face and traced her fingers along his jawline and up around his ear. It made it difficult to focus on going more slowly, when the blood coursing through his body was singing a very different song and Chizuru seemed all too eager to do everything at once.

"Do you think you could help me with these buttons?" he asked her, as his hands ran further down her legs until they found the edge of the yukata. There were enough damn buttons on the vest to keep her busy for a short while at least… which would force him to enjoy her soft skin and firm legs, and the gentle curve of her buttocks into her back, without immediately pinning her to the bed and forcing himself on her.

"Y-yes, Hijikata-san," Chizuru answered immediately, deftly starting to unbutton the black vest he wore under his uniform coat. She froze for a long moment when Hijikata's hands moved up under the fabric of her yukata and ran up her legs to caress her thighs and hips with strong, calloused fingers.

"Do you mind?" he asked, smiling at Chizuru's deep blush and the way that she had moved very slightly against him.

"No! Um, n-no… I don't mind." She returned to unbuttoning his vest, but it was becoming more difficult for her to focus, he thought, probably because she had never been touched like this before and he could see from the way that her flush spread to her ears and throat that he wasn't the only one who was aroused.

Once she had finished with his vest, she began unbuttoning his shirt, her touch surer now but her body starting to move just a little with the first completely conscious understanding—perhaps—of lust. He was caressing her waist now, and the loose belt began to come undone as his fingers tugged the fabric of the yukata apart from the inside. Finally there was enough space for his greedy hands to trace first her lower ribs and then the incredibly soft underside of her breasts. A sharp gasp from Chizuru made him blink, and his peripheral vision, which had begun to close in as blood surged through his body, cleared a little.

He discovered, although he had probably noticed it unconsciously, that her fingers were clenched in the bottom of his shirt, the last two buttons caught beneath his belt and the waist of his pants. Not that her attention was on the buttons, really. He had the impression that, like him, her eyes had been barely open as she tried to feel and record every sensation from this precious time together.

Their eyes met, and he saw that her dark brown irises were touched a little with gold, as though lit from within. Once upon a time he would have been startled to see this reminder that she was an Oni, and not human, but they had lived through far too much together now for it to matter. If anything it was even more exciting to realize just how quickly she was reacting to his touch and his earlier kisses along her neck and shoulder. As if in echo to his thought, Chizuru suddenly spoke:

"I don't want you to treat me like I'm fragile, Hijikata-san. Please… please remember that I am much stronger than I look and"—her voice became a little muffled as she pressed her forehead against his upper chest—"I have loved you for a long time."

As Hijikata hesitated, torn between another rush of desire and the need to take care, Chizuru uttered an inarticulate cry of—frustration?—and forced her hands to move again, this time clearly intent on undressing the stubborn man in front of her. She struggled with the stiff leather of the sword-belt but didn't give up until it came free and tumbled to the floor. She immediately turned her attention to the belt on his trousers.

"You don't _want_ me to be careful," muttered Hijikata, his hands somehow frozen in place as he tried to process what was happening.

"I wish… I knew… what to do… to make you lose control," Chizuru answered with surprising bluntness. Her fingers were trembling slightly, but they were strong, and she was determined.

Hijikata twitched as she pressed kisses into his chest, while her hands brushed his abdomen repeatedly as she worked the rest of his shirt buttons loose. Almost—but not quite!—without his conscious volition, his hands moved up and over and around her breasts and rubbed at first gently, and then more insistently against her nipples, which hardened further at his touch. The yukata fell open, and slid down her arms to her elbows. She was, as he had thought, entirely naked underneath, and the sight of her body, together with the way that the hunger on her face matched his own, defeated his good intentions to be as gentle as possible during this first time with her.

"You're managing very well…" Hijikata said softly, removing her hands from him long enough to finish undressing.

He silenced her protest—at the sudden distance between them maybe—by pushing her down onto the bed and covering her mouth and body with his own. It felt like his nerves were on fire, in the very best way, wherever their skin met, and he allowed his hands to do as they pleased with her willing flesh while his mouth, tongue and teeth did the same.

He ignored the slight whimper as he pinched nipples that were already taut with arousal, and started to rub himself against the dampness he could feel between her legs. Finally, he drew a finger down along that same place and watched her shiver with tension, and desire, and the smallest amount of apprehension.

Despite her earlier statements, he made her meet his eyes again, although her own were half-lidded as she concentrated on all the new sensations that he had caused in her.

"I love you Chizuru..." He knew the answer, had to ask anyway, wasn't sure what he would do if she said no: "Do you really want this?"

"Yes!" She deliberately moved under him, inexperienced but provocative nevertheless.

He swore—it had been difficult not to already—and ground himself against her, mouth pressed brutally against hers and hands gripping her hips. When she met his lust with her own, he loosed the last of his care and entered her, more roughly than intended, though still with all the skill that was his to command. There was another whimper, and her nails dug into his back, but her hips rose to meet him for all of that.

 _Dear gods, why did I wait so long…_ It was his first and last complete thought as their bodies met, separated, and met again, not in the slow, gentle intimacy that he had imagined but with forceful passion and cries of love and pleasure. She wanted him so much… he wanted her more. It was dizzying and nerve-destroying. When he finally climaxed, dragging her along with him, watching her twisting and sweating beneath him, he swore again and called her name, and knew that he would never let her leave his side in the future.

It was, in all ways, a celebration and a resolution all in one. And if all he had—if all they had—was one night, then he wouldn't waste it in regrets. He kissed the sweat from her brow and the strange, happy tears from her eyes.

"I think…" he murmured into her ear, as he listened to her panting breaths, and watched her still-quivering body. "I think that in a little while… we'll have to try that again."

Chizuru smiled at him, and for the first time ever Hijikata saw something like satisfaction or even smugness at the corners of her smile. Her words were the same as they had so often been, however:

"Yes, Hijikata-san."

* * *

[END]

* * *

**A/Note: Thank you for reading!** All reviews and comments are very much appreciated!


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